Gwaine's Blues
by Vaughntronic
Summary: Leiara meets Gwaine, officially, for the first time. Their little encounter reveals much about the nature of Gwaine and why he is the way he is. (This is the first part of the three song challenge where I was tasked to write a story inspired by three different songs given to me by Cordelia Rose. This is the first song.)


**AN: This is part 1 of a 3 song challenge set to me by the iPod of Cordelia Rose. I had never heard the song before the challenge, and I am not sure how good this will be - it is hard to write something that was inspired by something that I have little connection to, but this little tale came into my head.**

**The song is "Countdown" by The Black Keys**

**I also decided to make this fit in with my other story Lost In Fiction. If you happen to read that one as well, this one constitutes my OC, Leiara's, first official introduction to Gwaine.**

**Reviews make for happy Vaughns, so please do leave me your thoughts. I am always looking to improve. There are some seriously stellar writers out there to live up to!**

* * *

Gwaine.

Tester of limits. Limit tester.

There are many things that Gwaine is, but 'limit tester' is chief in my mind. He tests all manner of limits. The limits of his King, the limits of his fellow knights and friends, and the limits of his lovers.

His tactic for pushing boundaries is the same in any circumstance. Bring it to the edge, hold it there for as long as possible then pull it back. Repeat.

(This makes him an excellent lover, I might add.)

He knows just when to stop to keep Arthur from running him through, just when to back off before Leon sets him against more training, and he knows just when to slow down to keep whatever creature is beneath him panting for more.

What he does not know how to do is stop drinking. That is a limit that he will forever break, never pulling back at the last second. This little flaw in his boundary scheme makes for some hilarious, and at times, gut-wrenching tales.

This night was a little bit of both...

* * *

"Mira! Mmmmiramiramira!"

Gwaine slurred and swayed ominously as he rose from his seat to throw a weighted arm around the serving girl. "Why... Doyou... Hurt me so?" He said with a toothy grin as he looked at the other Knights sitting around the table like they were supposed to applaud or laugh, or join in on whatever drunken train of thought he was stumbling down.

They didn't oblige. Lancelot pinched his nose, embarrassed. Elyan just shook his head. Leon gave the poor girl a piteous face of apology. Percival did smirk just a touch, but it was wiped clean when Leon shot him a glance.

Undaunted, Gwaine pressed on leaning close to the girls face, almost toppling her over. "I neeeeeeed you, Mira." He tilted his head and tried to press his lips to hers, uninvited. Her face was stoic and annoyed, and to her credit she resisted the urge to smash the large pitcher she was holding into his face with a crunch - though she did indeed step out from under his arm at the last second, and he went thudding to the floor, ale flying into the air.

She walked off without a second glance, and the rest of the tavern erupted into raucous laughter. Except the Knights. The Knights just wanted the ground to open and swallow them all up.

Gwaine's large hand thumped onto the table as he used it to hoist himself up - Lancelot had to quickly swoop his mug out of the way to stop Gwaine from knocking it over.

"Miiiiira!" Gwaine called after the retreating girl, his hand outstretched like he would reach for her. He let it fall with a drunken swing and frowned. "Whadidisay?"

Leon made to stand up at this. He had seen enough. But Gwaine pointed a ale-dampened finger in his face. "Sit ginger. M'fine. Piss."

Leon looked for a second like he might break the finger, but he lowered himself back down anyway as Gwaine made for the door to the tavern, still clutching his empty tankard in his hands. He rammed into every corner of every table. You could see the mugs lifting into the air in his wake as patrons moved their drinks out of the path of the impending stumbler.

* * *

Gwaine's shoulder met the doorframe head on and he dropped his tankard. He spun on his heel looking for a moment like he was going to throw a punch at whatever dolt had just walked into him. When he realized the dolt was actually the frame of a door, he laughed and stumbled backwards outside grabbing onto it to keep from going down again.

He walked along the wall of the tavern, keeping his left hand on it, while his right hand disappeared under his shirt and was fumbling with the laces of his pants. Once he reached the edge of the building, he stepped into the narrow alley that led to the back yard of the tavern. He let himself fall forward, catching himself with his left arm on the large wall that made up the other side of the path. He rested his head against his hand as he began to relieve himself in the cover of the darkness.

* * *

Leiara backed out of her little shack carrying the large bowl of now dirty water, her face and arms still damp from their small bath.

She started down the alley towards the market, only brief patches of light streaming through foggy glass of the tavern as she walked. When she got a bit further she noticed a figure standing against the wall and she heard the sound of water being poured... Wait... Not water... That was... "Oh!" she said and she turned back, then forward, then back again, giving the poor drunkard some privacy.

Gwaine looked up at her involuntary exclamation and smiled at her back, completely unashamed as he tucked himself back in and tied his trousers back up with a great amount of difficulty. He moved towards her now, and when she heard him coming, she turned to face him, ready to pummel him with the bowl in her hands if she had to.

"Hullo" he said, stepping into her space, and she put a hand out to both keep him from advancing, and to steady him.

"Hi," she said warily.

He leaned down to get a good look at her face, obviously trying to focus in the dark while intoxicated was quite the challenge, and his eyes blinked blearily several times before he stood up and smiled. "I knowyou! From... From..." He gestured towards the castle, since the word was apparently not a part of his repertoire this evening.

She nodded once, knowing precisely who he was as soon as he was in her space. "Leiara," she said.

"Leanne! That's it," he said. "I'm..."

"Sir Gwaine." she cut him off. "Yes, I know who you are."

"So you _have_ heard of me?" he looked cocky and puffed out his chest a bit.

She rolled her eyes and continued past him down the path.

He followed in her wake, leaning down to continue to talk to her, seemingly wanting to be near her face. Perhaps he thought this was enticing, though he really did reek of ale and clammy sweat. "Where are you headed on this fine night?" he asked, trying to be roguish and dashing, but it just came off kind of slurred and sloppy.

"Just emptying my washing bowl." she said evenly, chancing a glance at him. He flashed a grin at her, and the corners of her mouth twitched up despite herself.

"Right! A quest!" He put his arm around her waist and she tensed pausing in her steps. He did not notice and kept walking pulling her along, so she just went with it. He was a Knight of Camelot even if he was completely pissed.

When they reached the end of the little alley, she rounded the wall without warning, and he dropped his hand from her waist. She quickly tossed the water in a small patch of grass wedged behind a large abandoned market cart.

When she turned back, she noticed that Gwaine had plopped down in the dirt of the road, leaning up against the large wall. His knees were bent and his elbows rested on them letting his fingers dangle in the air between his legs. His head was hanging down.

Leiara looked on him for a moment wondering if he had fallen asleep. When he did not move, she stepped around him and made to head back to her home.

He lifted his head as she walked by and grabbed her hand. She gasped and whipped her head around, but found that the touch was not demanding or rough, it felt gentle and kind of timid. "Don't leave." he muttered.

She nodded, and he turned his hand in hers to help lower her down to the ground next to him, just like a Knight would do.

She adjusted her light dress and curled her legs under her folding her hands in her lap.

They did not say anything for a long moment, and she looked straight ahead, feeling more and more twitchy as Gwaine stared at her.

"I loved a girl once." He said plainly and without warning.

Leiara looked at him now, her expression inviting him to say more, without pressing him to do so.

"Once." He repeated, and even in his drunken speech the word sounded like it had been a lesson to him.

Leiara just continued to watch him, though a small frown sat on her lips.

Gwaine leaned his head back against the wall and sighed deeply. "She was beautiful and free, and we were young and uninhibited. I would have given her everything."

He was so uncharacteristically Gwaine right now, that Leiara wondered if she needed to be alarmed.

Gwaine turned his head to the side, though it was still tilted back against the wall. He bent his right arm to touch Leiara's cheek and claim a lock of hair in his fingers. "She had hair like yours. Long and wavy with a hint of red in the sun. I thought that about you when I first saw you, you know?"

Leiara did not answer, she just studied his lidded eyes weighted down with ale and now sadness.

He stared at the lock of hair in his fingers for a long moment before he lifted his head and twisted towards her. In one motion, his other hand was on her cheek and his lips were on hers. It could have been a great kiss. The perfect moment for a gentle kiss in the moonlight. But, he over-calculated the distance between their faces, and more bumped into her than kissed her.

She froze with her eyes open and they were looking at each other. He sighed and pulled back a couple of inches looking down. He then let his hand fall from her face as he leaned back against the wall again pushing his hands through his long brown hair.

"She was free," he continued, not acknowledging the awkward moment that had passed between them. "Too free. She freely helped herself to my brother's bed."

Leiara put a hand on his arm in comfort.

"It doesn't matter, though. They're all gone." he was looking straight ahead at the tavern wall, his foot kicked at a small stone jutting out of the dirt.

"They?" Leiara could not help but ask.

"My family. They're dead." His voice was far more sober when he said those words.

Leiara just watched him, neither of them speaking. It seemed to her that he did not need to say anything else. Aspects of his personality were perfectly explained by this little exchange. He was the perfect lover because he spent his time loving many women, possibly even some men. And he spent his time loving many, because loving the one proved a mistake.

Now the drunken cat-calls Leirara heard drifting from him in the bar almost nightly, and the gentle way he claimed her hand when she made to leave earlier that night made sense. He was just tired of people going away.

He made to stand up, using the wall generously for support. Once he was to his feet, he offered his hand again and Leiara took it, allowing him to help her to her feet - though she did a lot of the work herself not wanting to unbalance him.

He smiled at her in his Roguish way, all sign of their little moment had been ghosted away. This time, he leaned in slower and placed a kiss on her cheek.

"Thanks for staying, Layla." He made an elaborate bow and almost fell before laughing, and he turned and walked back towards the castle.

Leiara watched him go, picking up her bowl and clutching it to her chest. So, that was Sir Gwaine.


End file.
